


Scene 2

by Witchy1ness



Series: How To (Not) Raise a Ravager: Companion Scenes [2]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Parent Yondu Udonta, The Ravagers totally don't have a betting pool going, booze is the answer to all the parenting questions you don't want to ask yourself, the only thing worse than parenting a teenager is parenting two teenagers, who's regretting giving the kid a ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22164391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witchy1ness/pseuds/Witchy1ness
Summary: Set between the "Bargaining and Problem Solving" and "Closure" fics from the main series.Yondu's not sure which of them is going to survive Quill's teen years - or rather, if it'll be Yondu or the kid's antics that will kill Quill first.
Relationships: Kraglin Obfonteri & Yondu Udonta, Peter Quill & Yondu Udonta, background antagonistic Peter and Kraglin
Series: How To (Not) Raise a Ravager: Companion Scenes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1028829
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	Scene 2

**Author's Note:**

> All recognizable characters, species, and settings are the property of Marvel Comics, Marvel Studios, and/or Disney. I'm just borrowing them :)
> 
> Reviews and constructive criticism welcome, flames will be ignored.

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Peter thinks Yondu is an idiot.

Yondu, on the other hand, _knows_ Peter is an idiot.

This difference in viewpoints tends to lead to rather explosive and somewhat bloody arguments between Terran and Centaurian, to the effect that the rest of the Ravagers have started a betting pool on what will happen in any given fight.

(Kraglin really, truly hopes this is some Terran phase that Peter will survive long enough to outgrow. Because damn it, this is _not_ what he envisioned having to deal with when Yondu had decided against delivering the boy to his daddy.)

And while Quill never comes right out and _says_ what he thinks about Yondu – he’s not _that_ stupid – it comes across rather obviously in his defiant posture, adolescent scowl, and repeated rebellions against Yondu’s authority.

Yondu, being the Captain (and being, well, Yondu), has no reason to hold back on _his_ opinions.

“What in the ever-lovin’ abyss of space were you _thinkin’_ boy?!”

The Captain flings an accusatory arm in the direction of the _Milano_. Normally the prettiest M-ship in the hangar, its bold blue-and-orange paint scheme was looking rather crispy around the edges, with the characteristic burn marks of solar radiation standing in mute testimony to just how stupid its teenage pilot had been.

Again.

When Yondu had decided to trust Peter with solo jobs a couple years ago, Kraglin had had some…misgivings.

It wasn’t so much the kid’s age or lack of ability – he’d proven himself on countless jobs already – as it was the fact that what little brains he supposedly had always seemed to fly out of his skull anytime he got into the pilot’s seat.

After his first disastrous – to him; the rest of the crew thought it was hilarious – flight, Quill had gotten damn near paranoid about keeping up with the maintenance and repair on the _Milano_. At the same time, he’d apparently uncovered a daredevil streak coupled with a latent death wish.

No dare – no matter how death-inducing it was likely to be – was turned down. The skimming contests – where Ravagers took their M-ships and looped the _Eclector_ as close as possible without making contact with the ship – were brought to a scarlet, whistling halt after the Terran had managed to hook a hanging cable with a wingtip of his _Milano_ and somehow nearly upend the entire ship.

(And while the notions of up and down are rather flexible in space, they aren’t on a ship with an artificial gravity generator and a crew that much preferred things right-side up, damn it!)

Now, Kraglin wasn’t sure where their pet Terran had learned about solar flare surfing, but he clearly hadn’t bothered learning the most important part of the whole thing – namely, that you _didn’t_ fly close enough to get caught in said solar flare and fry your ship’s electronics, necessitating drifting dead in space for nearly a week until the Captain got suspicious and sent out a search party.

Not because he was _worried_ or nothing, so he claimed, but because Quill still owed him for the damn ship and if the Terran was gonna be too dead to cough up the credits for it Yondu would damn well recover the thing so he could sell it to someone who could.

Any concern that the crew might have had over whatever had befallen their youngest member vanished like liquor at a Clan party when it’d been discovered exactly what he’d been up to, leaving only greedy eagerness to see how the latest showdown between Quill and their Captain would pay out.

“It was just a miscalculation, that’s all,” the boy muttered sullenly, shoving hands into pockets as he slouched.

Kraglin gulped reflexively as the Captain’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“An’ how _many_ of these ‘miscalculations’ does this make now, eh? Seems to me someone like you who keeps makin’ as many of ‘em as you do don’t deserve your own ship.”

 _That_ brought the teen up out of his angry slouch, eyes widening in alarm. “You can’t take my ship!”

Kraglin barely managed to suppress a groan at his Captain’s vicious baring of teeth (charity didn’t stretch far enough to call it a grin), knowing that the Terran had all but sealed his fate – along with Kraglin’s financial loss – with that sentence.

“I can an’ I am. An’ _maybe_ you’ll get it back. Eventually. For now, get yer ass to quarters. I don’t wanna see a hair of you outta them except for meals for two full cycles. You can spend the time figuring out what order you want to clean the waste facilities in.”

Kraglin figured the only reason Quill’s jaw hadn’t fallen off was because it was so firmly attached, the kid’s eyes only getting wider with every restriction the Captain landed on him, to the point the first mate wondered if they were actually going to fall out of their sockets.

The teen recovered quickly though, snapping his mouth shut with an audible click and narrowing his gaze as he drew himself up to his full height (Quill was damn near of a height as the Captain already, and Kraglin suspected he wasn’t done growing yet).

Before he could let loose with whatever he’d been storing up, however, the Captain let out a _snarl_.

And as someone whose vocal range spanned four octaves, it was the multi-layered, discordant equivalent of Yondu telling the boy to get his ass in gear before he ripped off the teen’s limbs and beat him with them before eating the Terran’s carcass. 

Quill booked it out of the hangar so fast Kraglin briefly wondered if the boy had learned to teleport.

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The Captain sank into his chair on the bridge, barely managing to refrain from massaging his temples. His boy was gonna be the death of him, Yondu just knew it.

_But not today._

Smirking at how he’d managed to get the upper hand on the kid, he only barely refrained from massaging his throat.

Centaurian throats were _not_ created with speaking Basic in mind, and Yondu’s distinctive rasp owed itself to years of damage created by forcing multiple voice boxes into awkward configurations. Yelling only served to further irritate the issue – aggravating given how much time he spent carrying out that particular action.

_Especially since that brat’s stuck around._

Resting his head in his left hand, Yondu pretended to be going over their financials while surreptitiously trying to rub his temple. He really was at his wit’s end with Peter; he knew the kid was chafing to get out on his own, but the Captain also knew why that was A Shitty Idea – not that he could _tell_ the kid about it.

Although, at seventeen ( _and a half_! He can hear the kid retort in his head), Quill’s been adamant that he’s practically an adult, as humans reckon it; Yondu thinks that’s a pile of Kree-shit. The speed the kid’s intelligence seems to be developing at has Yondu reckoning on not being able to classify him as an adult until the little shit’s in his thirties, at least.

_Though maybe his brains would come in a little faster if he were using ‘em more._

He scowled sourly at his screen. It wasn’t even just the crap Quill kept pulling with the _Milano_ ; ever since he’d discovered females a few years ago there’d been more than once where he’d come running back to the _Eclector_ with an angry relative/partner/pimp (or mob of) hot on his tail.

He’d tried introducing the boy to the sex-droids on Contraxia, but the kid had accused him of trying to kill his sex drive forever (which no, hadn’t been the plan, but if that’s what happened Yondu certainly wasn’t going to complain about it).

Letting out a sigh, Yondu flicked a glance to where Kraglin was focusing unnecessarily hard on scanning for potential jobs. Xandarians and Terrans weren’t that different in terms of biology – or at least, that’d been their experience so far, aside from the whole red versus blue blood, and that Kraglin was a lot less breakable than Quill – and he was tempted to ask his first mate on when Xandarians considered their offspring full-grown.

As soon as the thought finished crossing his mind Yondu froze, hand halting in the midst of closing the accounts he’d been staring unsuccessfully at.

Horror washed over him as, hard on his last thought, came one that reminded him that despite being first mate and considered a full – _adult_ – member of the crew, in terms of years Kraglin wasn’t _that_ much older than Quill.

And given the pissing contests the first mate and the kid had started with each other over the last few years (that they likely thought their Captain knew nothing about, the idiots), meant it was possible that Yondu’s assumptions about when male Terran brains came in could _also_ apply to male Xandarian brains; which would mean –

_I got **years** a' this shit left to deal with! From the **both** of 'em!_

He couldn’t stop the strangled, horrified noise that slipped out, bringing Kraglin’s head up in alarm and Horuz swiveling from his position at helm.

“Captain?” the two Ravagers asked in wary unison, but Yondu waved them off.

“Nothin’,” he gruffed, standing and feeling a sudden, severe urge to retire to his quarters with a few bottles of something strongly alcoholic.

His pace increased at the out-of-the-abyss impulse to talk to Stakar about the situation that sprouted on his way to his bunk.

Maybe he’d grab a few _dozen_ bottles instead. 

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**Author's Note:**

> I'm back!! Holy crap it's been a while, oops. I *have* been working on stories, I swear, they just happen to be more original stuff rather than fanfiction, haha.
> 
> I've only got two other in-progress fanfics to actually finish, so it's not out of the realm of possibility that I can wrap those up soon-ish. 
> 
> No promises :P


End file.
